Unhealthy Obsession
by TheVastEmptiness
Summary: Sasori has found himself with an obsession for a new form of art. AU


**Author's Note: Throughout the entire story I do not use he/she or any name. Regardless, this is meant to be from Sasori's point of view. This is an AU fic and does not take place in the ninja world. Sasori is just an artist here. In the actual anime/manga of Naruto, Sasori is clearly depicted as an artist. However, in the real world, puppetry is not a common form of art. And so I chose to give him a different medium, painting. Seeing as Sasori does not have a puppet body in this story, nor has he gone through the many tragic and decently traumatizing things he went through in his life as a shinobi (death, massacres, etc.). Therefore, I have given him a bit more of a free range with his emotions, to where he can express things like sadness, despair, and joy. Also, I have keyed his obsessive nature into this story as well seeing as I feel that in anime/manga he had an obsession with his form of art and therefore should have the same obsession for the new medium I have given him. **

I inserted the delicate silver key into the lock, twisted it, and gently pulled the door open. Taking a small step forwards I pushed the door shut tightly behind me and then crinkled my pale toes in the warm beach sand. Clutching my extremely expensive acrylic paint set and paper canvas I steeled my nervous expression and strode ahead, making my way to the waves that were crashing to a tune only they knew.

I had been trying at this for what felt like centuries although I knew that it had really only been a few months. Every night at the time of the sunset I promptly race outside to almost pitifully attempt to capture the never ending beauty and keep it immortal. Keep it frozen in a single moment in time… forever.

However, staring out at that wide expanse of cerulean sea that seemed to be made of nothing but glimmering crystal I could feel myself starting to lose my confidence. Even the tiny shells that had washed upon the shore looked like small treasures forming an intricate almost pattern on the water line. All of these things however, paled in comparison to the spectacle that was the sky. All of these colors were things that I could only ever imagine plus even more unique shades and combinations that were entirely unknown to me. With startling crimson, a soft plushy rose color, and a multitude of brilliant oranges to match all the shades of leaves in fall. This along with gentle lavender, deep periwinkle, and a few stray puffy clouds thrown in and it was certainly awe worthy with all of the beauty that nature could ever seemingly possess.

Swallowing my fear I quickly plopped down onto a cold stone bench intended for the nonexistent tourists. I spread out my hundreds of paints in every shade and color so as to start choosing what I would need.

In my lifetime I had become an accomplished painter even in my younger years because of my talent for capturing the essences of my muses in my paintings. I wanted to immortalize the beauty of whatever I painted, and I always succeeded. I had money to spare because of my abundant sales but in these past couple of months I had spent up and among the thousands on just paints alone, trying to acquire every shade known to man. I was slowly drifting away into the darkest corners of debt and I knew it well too but I had what most would consider an unhealthy obsession. I _had_ to capture the sky in a painting. Slapping color after color onto the canvas and blending them expertly together was relaxing, almost like therapy to me. Knowing that in this try I may finally reach my goal!

Now, as I add countless shades, one after another, I can feel my excitement bubbling up and my arrogance returning. I have used so many combinations and tubes of color this time that I must be close!

When I finished I scrunched my eyes tightly together and pushed all of my paints and brushes uncaringly into the sand. Spreading out and holding my new masterpiece in front of me I opened my eyes with a smirk on my face and realized… I had done it again. The colors in the sky faded but mine remained and boy did they look amazing all together. Each one had a purpose and they all complimented each other but… it was simply… not good enough.

I allowed myself some time to wallow in my misery. My painting was stunning, as in my mad rush I had slowly created something worthy of being a masterpiece… it just wasn't enough! The colors weren't right! The layout was totally wrong! I almost accepted defeat as I did with this painting what I had done to all my others. I slowly tore the work that I had slaved on and that had probably cost me a hundred dollars into two halves and threw it into the sand. The water slowly rose up and took it away, returning to the ocean with a whirl wind of colors as a companion.

I flinched when I felt a warm drop of water hit my cheek. Looking up to the quickly darkening sky I checked to see if it had started to rain but… it hadn't. The water however, kept falling. When I realized that the droplets were my own tears I furiously rubbed at my eyes to rid myself of the sign of weakness but they just kept pouring, spilling, and gushing down my cheeks. No matter what I did the flow just getting faster and faster. I hadn't cried since my parents' deaths. But the constant failure had just been building up in the back of my mind like an overwhelming pressure that I just wanted to go away. I let out a strangled sob as a signal of my distress and all but raced back to my door. 'I will _never _try this again! It's ruining my life!'

As I thought this I looked back to my forgotten tools lying in the sand and made a final decision. This is an unhealthy obsession! Surely I can just leave this task for someone else to complete! My precious time doesn't need to be wasted on a menial task such as this! However, even as I repeated those words in my mind like a mantra, I knew I was lying to myself. I _needed _to do this!

So I ran back to grab my paints, brushed all the sand I could off of them and held them tightly to my chest. All while thinking 'maybe just once more.'

**Please review! Compliments and constructive criticism are both welcomed!**


End file.
